Hey There Now
by dancingitout
Summary: Post S10 finale. Two miserable people and 5251 miles apart - will they get back together?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

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><p>Cristina sent one last message to her mother before she switched off her cell phone. She was already seated on the plane, mindlessly flicking through the magazine in front of her, waiting for the plane to take off.<p>

The anxiety only hit her when the air stewardess started checking on the passengers in the flight. Her heart sank, and she felt like her stomach was tied in knots. She appreciated the fact that there was no one sitting beside her - she was totally not in the mood for small talk.

She had decided to leave, but she didn't want to leave. She had been trying for weeks, but she couldn't bring herself to do so. She ended up changing the date again and again, until her twisted sister had forcefully put her on a cab on that day.

After the plane crash,she had been incredibly afraid of planes, or the notion of getting on one and flying. She either made herself drunk before getting on a plane or had someone to travel with her, to hold her hand and also to distract her.

But now, she was moving across the country alone.

She didn't feel finished. Meredith told her that there was no finish line, but that didn't make her feel any better. She really didn't feel finished, especially with _him_. She wished that they had figured out a way to work things out, but the ER _had to_ be swamped on the day she left.

They didn't even have a big goodbye.

A lump formed in her throat and tears started welling up in her eyes.

As much as she wished that he could have come with her, she knew she only had herself now.

Cristina closed her eyes and felt tears roll down her cheeks.

She was leaving.

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><p><strong>NOTE: Thank you Eliza for being an awesome beta reader! And any feedback &amp; reviews would be greatly appreciated. I hope you like this story! :D<br>**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

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><p><em><strong>Klausman Institute for Medical Research, Zurich, Switzerland<strong>_

_Budget, new protocols, surgery reports. Paperwork for 3 hours. No one told me this was part of the deal. Why didn't anyone tell me?!_ Cristina grumpily reviewed the department's annual budget, silently complaining about the amount of paperwork she had to complete, because _everyone_ suddenly had new research ideas when the new chief came in. It perfect in there – the surgeries she got to pick, the unlimited funding for her research, the cutting edge technology . . . but the paperwork. Freaking paperwork. She sighed. _Almost_ perfect.

"Dr. Yang, Dr. Gardner from University Hospital Zurich is on line 2."

_Great, just when I have so many things to work on._

"Thank you, Alicia." Cristina plastered a smile on her face and picked up the phone. "Dr. Cristina Yang speaking."

"Hello Dr. Yang, this is Dr. Gardner. How are you? How's your research going?" The voice almost sang into the phone. She rolled her eyes.

"Great, great, thank you." _Please just let me finish my paperwork. I want to go back to my OR. Please, please._

"The seminar you gave last week was wonderful! My attendings and residents can't wait for you to come back. I must say, everyone was utterly amazed—"

"Thank you, that's very nice of you." _Can I get my pen to automatically sign everything while I work in my research lab? Maybe I should start a project like this here._

"Uhm, this might be rather abrupt. May I ask you for a quick favor? One of our trauma surgeons has left and we are looking for suitable candidates to fill up the job opening, so I was wondering if you had any recommendations?" A wry smile flickered across her face.

_Trauma, trauma. Quick and dirty. _

"Oh okay. Trauma – Let me see what I can do. I'll get back to you soon."

_No time to make things pretty, no time for mistakes. _

"Thank you, Dr. Yang! Have a nice day."

"You too, Dr. Gardner."

She put down the phone and was immediately lost in thought. Thinking of those days in Seattle, her lips curled into a smile.

_Mistakes are how you learn._

After a while, she asked for her assistant. "Alicia, could you get me Dr. Manning from Trauma?"

"Right away, Dr. Yang."

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><p>Mindlessly watching the world go by – an attempt to withdraw herself from the pile of papers on her desk - Cristina decided that for every hour she spent on paperwork, she would spend double in the OR, or her research lab. Just when she was silently complimenting herself for making such a brilliant call, a gentle knock on her door caused her to jump out of her daydream with a start.<p>

"Dr. Yang, is there anything else you need?"

"No, you can go home now."

Alicia turned to leave and Cristina was lost in her daydream again. She was contemplating if she should just abandon everything on her desk and go home when she heard Alicia mumbling about something.

"What?" She was slightly baffled. Did Alicia say something?

"Oh, it's nothing Dr. Yang. I'm just saying that there is a full moon hanging over us tonight. . ." She gave a quick glance out the window.

"Oh right, right, yeah, there is." _I wonder if he is looking at the moon now, _she said to herself, _and it is not even night at Seattle._ She smiled, shaking her head at her silly thought.

"What are you laughing at, Dr. Yang?"

"Nothing," Cristina shook her head again, "Good night, Alicia."

After her assistant bid her farewell, she continued with her paperwork, reading reports till she got immensely bored and decided to divert her attention towards the files sent by her head of trauma –profiles of a few trauma surgeons in Europe.

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><p>Our life is patched up of various decisions. We spend every day making countless decisions, ranging from the simpler ones like what to eat for lunch, to those that ought to be taken seriously, like picking a major in college, declaring a war on a country or moving across the world. Some people trusted their instinct and followed their heart; some hired analysts and set up a focus group, while some simply flipped a coin.<p>

Well, as a rational person, Cristina would make a pros and cons list in order to get a clear grasp of the whole situation. Stanford or Columbia? Smith or Boston? Write it down, and you shall know – so as she believed.

But this was different.

She put down those profiles and sighed. She didn't need them, for she knew all along whose name she should give. His experience at Maryland Shock Trauma and the sandpit would be valuable for the hospital, and as compared to Seattle, research opportunities are more abundant at Zurich - she knew he had always wanted to start his own research. She thought that this would be good for him.

And she missed him.

She could remember how he always looked when he was in the ER - she loved watching him, sneaking a glance at him once and then.

She could remember that his face would be obviously relaxed when there was a slow and quiet day in the ER, and he might even take a short trip to the cardio wing.

She could remember how his brow would furrow when he was working with such intense concentration.

And she could remember how he frowned when he couldn't stop the bleeding.

If the patient started coding, his face would harden and he would look _really_ grim – afterwards, if they managed to bring the patient back, she'd catch his relieved-looking eyes, and he would give her a subtle nod before continuing to work on the patient.

She remembered. She remembered everything.

Weren't these reasons good enough?

But she couldn't bring herself to do so. No matter how many reasons she can find, she was afraid of ruining his life, again.

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><p>She thought about the night they met - the pen trach, the icicle, and the kiss. How absurd did it all seem now, that she was impaled by a freaking icicle. <em>An icicle? Seriously?<em>

And he came to save her like a knight in shining armor. "Damsel in distress." He had muttered under his breath and slightly shook his head as he scooped her up from the cold, freezing ground to take her to the ER. She had protested silently in frustration. "I am not some poor little girl who needs saving," she had thought, "put me down!"

But she remembered how that thought had died down. That was the first time she'd gotten lost in his blue eyes, and she'd gladly do so for years.

That night, Dr. Webber had offered him a job at SGH. She'd raised her eyebrow when she heard it, wondering how he would respond. Even though it had only been a few hours since they met, she wanted him to stay. She wanted to know more about him as a doctor, and also as a person. Sitting on the gurney, she couldn't see his face, but she could feel that he hesitated. He swiftly turned round to face her for a brief second and that got her hopes up, wishing that he would stay, for her. However, he turned down the offer to return to the army.

She had been upset for no reason – _"I had only known him for like, 4 hours?"_ she had thought. But she tried to put on a smile, to mask her disappointment, to hide it in front of him – and then all of a sudden, he had grabbed her face and given her a long slow kiss on the lips.

She remembered his warm blue eyes telling her that this wasn't the end.

Like Dr. Webber's job offer, she understood that this one would turn his life upside down too. Would he uproot his life to move 5251 miles from Seattle to Zurich, to her?

_Should I do this? _She wondered.

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><p>A weak stream of sunlight peeked through the curtains at Klausman Institute for Medical Research. A young man in blue scrubs nodded at Alicia and walked into the office of director of cardiothoracic surgery. Instead of looking nervous, his eyes were beaming and he couldn't stop grinning.<p>

"Dr. Yang?"

"Yes, Shane. Come in. Have a seat." Cristina couldn't help noticing that Shane looked very, very happy. He tried to put on a straight face, but his effort was in vain. Shane was _really_ excited.

"Shane, you look… happy. Or high. " Her brows knitted together, pursing her lips in concentration. Why was her resident _so_ elevated? She wondered if he was stealing morphine from patients because he looked exactly like a kid in a theme park who had just gotten off a roller coaster and couldn't stop bouncing up and down and was now ready to go for another round.

"Yes, I am on an adrenaline rush - two back-to-back surgeries and another one in the afternoon, I am thrilled! The patient was coding, and Dr. Lockhart just . . ." Shane rambled on about how great the surgery had been, leaving a speechless Cristina staring at him. He finally realized that he was talking too much, "Sorry Dr. Yang. That's inappropriate. I am sorry. You wanted to see me?" He looked at Cristina apologetically and took a deep breath to cool himself, but he could barely contain his excitement.

"Yeah, it was, and I did. You looked like you were going to burst in glee. " Shane's eyes widened, and his face flushed with embarrassment. Cristina cleared her throat, "Listen, Shane, I wanted to ask you something. I was wondering what made you want to move to Zurich?"

"Oh. That. . ." Shane took a second to think. They both waited. "Uhm, it's because I think I'll be better off here. For my career, and also myself. You knew what happened back then. . ." Shane cringed at the thought, shaking his head as if to shake off the memory. "I wasn't sure at first, but I took a chance. I am glad that I did. Well, I felt like Bilbo Baggins, except that I volunteered."

Cristina laughed at the Hobbit reference. "Thank you, Shane. Now go back to work."

The moment of enlightenment had come; she knew exactly what she should do.

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><p><em><strong>University Hospital Zurich, Zurich, Switzerland<strong>_

"Dr. Gardner, did you receive my email?"

"Yes, I did. Thank you very much Dr. Yang, we really appreciate it."

He got off the phone and started studying the list of names. There was a Dr. Owen Hunt from Seattle with a very interesting remark– _"Constructed an OR table from an exploded Humvee in the middle of a desert."_

Amazed, he called out to his assistant. "Caitlin, can you please leave a message for David Lee from HR? Tell him to find out about a – one second – Dr. Owen Hunt from Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital from Seattle. He is potentially our next head of Trauma."

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><p><em><strong>Cristina's apartment, Zurich, Switzerland<strong>_

Sipping on her cup of tea, she sat on her balcony staring at the sunset, lost in her own thoughts.

_You should ditch this place. Go for the adventure. You telling me this place gives you a rush? A high?_

_Owen, will you take this adventure with me?_

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><p><strong>NOTE: I hope you enjoy this chapter and also a big thank you to Eliza for beta reading! ;)<strong>


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

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><p><em><strong>Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital, Seattle, United States<strong>_

"Hello, is this Dr. Owen Hunt?"

"Yes this is him. Who am I speaking to?"

"It's David Lee from the HR department of University Hospital Zurich. Sir, I just want to check with you if you have received our email?"

"Yes I did." Owen drummed his fingers on his desk and stared out of the window. Another phone call from headhunters. . .

"It'd be an honor if you could consider our offer, sir, we made a few calls and we must say we are completely amazed by your service to your country . . ." As he rambled on, Owen made a few noises to let him know he was listening . . . although he wasn't. He had to get the budget sorted out as soon as possible, before the hospital had to shut another research lab down, which would bring more drama in the hospital - as if they hadn't had enough.

"Thank you for the offer, but I have no intention of relocating at the moment." Owen got off the phone and rested his head on the chair's backrest. The budget was irritating. He needed to cut someone open before he went nuts from those figures. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and sighed. Another wave of headaches hit him - he had no idea when he last slept.

A quick knock on the door brought Owen to attention, "Dr. Hunt, trauma coming in, ETA 2 minutes."

"Be right there." He smirked, toying with the thought of turning into a surgery junkie as he briefly tidied his desk. With a straight face, he headed to the ER quickly.

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><p>The rain never seemed to stop pouring in Seattle. As he stood in front of the ER, waiting for the arrival of an incoming trauma, she crept into his thoughts.<p>

It had been two months since she left.

He tried to move on, he really did; he buried himself in work so that he could get everything out of his mind. He forced himself to go to the gym every day so that he would get so exhausted that he would fall asleep immediately when he reached his bed. He kept himself occupied all the time so that he wouldn't have room to think about her.

But she still managed to break into his thoughts.

And everyone in the hospital either kept asking him if he was OK or just wouldn't stop telling him to get a new date. And he found this very, very annoying. People had to understand that he was fine, she wasn't dead; he didn't need a date, instead he needed time to heal, or a Cristina.

And his new ambitious chief of cardio insisted on solving the mysterious McNeil case. He knew it was irrational, but he was pissed at her. Why couldn't she just leave things the way it was?

He had to stop himself from paging cardio and then expecting her to walk through the door.

He missed her so much.

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><p>He liked being in the OR, where his mind could be untangled and his focus was solely on the patient - where he managed to keep her out of his mind.<p>

And now, lying on a bed in an on call room, he felt like he was back to square one.

The room was extremely quiet. So quiet that he could hear his own heartbeat, accompanied by the sound of rain drops hitting the window. He remembered that she liked the weather here. She had said that she found it too bright and shiny back home in sunny Beverly Hills. He chuckled at the thought of a young Cristina pouting and whining about the weather while everyone happily roasted themselves on the beach.

No matter how hard Owen tried to tire himself out, it was hard to fall asleep. His mind was too active all the while, and when it finally died down, he would start thinking of her. Of them.

And he had no idea where he should sleep, for every corner reminded him of Cristina – the on call rooms in the cardio wing, the closet in the ER, the conference room – his trailer even smelled like Cristina.

He silently contemplated the offer from the headhunter that morning; a change in his life would probably do him good at the moment.

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><p>Owen was deep in thought when his cell phone rang, disrupting the protracted silence in the room, and he jumped with fright. He took a deep breath to compose himself before answering his phone – PTSD certainly didn't do well with surprise.<p>

"Owen Hunt speaking." He willed his voice to be confident and professional, rather than someone who had been startled by the mere sound of his phone ringing.

"Hello Dr. Hunt! This is Dr. Gardner from University Hospital Zurich. I'm so sorry for calling you at this hour – I couldn't reach you earlier. . ."

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine. I was in surgery."

"Oh, of course, I understand that." Dr. Gardner laughed. "I heard from the HR department that you turned down our offer, so I will just be straightforward – is there anything wrong? Because we would really like to have you here, and I'd do anything to get you here. Ha-ha." He sounded too cheerful, too optimistic - a great contrast to the dark and gloomy Owen, who laughed half-heartedly. Before he could respond, Dr. Gardner continued talking. "One of our esteemed colleagues here had recommended you and we are really impressed by your resume. Listen, why don't you take a visit to our hospital before you decide?"

Owen's mouth hung open with shock. He could see that they were attempting to woo him, but still, giving out a free trip? That's risky. You could never predict if you would get the money back.

"Uhm, a trip? In person?" asked Owen.

"Yes! Definitely not a virtual tour. Ha-ha." Owen laughed weakly. He was worn out after a long day in the ER, and he hadn't realized how tired he was until that moment. "You don't have to decide now. Just call my office when you make up your mind and I'll have my assistant arrange everything for you."

"Yeah, yeah, ok. I'm sorry; may I ask where your hospital is?" Owen couldn't think straight anymore; he was on the verge of falling asleep.

"Well, this is University Hospital Zurich so we are in Zurich. Ha-ha."

"Oh, right, right, of course." Owen chided himself silently for asking such a dumb question. "I'll get back to you soon."

"Okay, I expect to hear from you soon." Dr. Gardner hung up; the silence in the on-call room is restored. Owen sat cross-legged on the bed, stunned. _Zurich?_

The rain was surprisingly soothing that night. Thinking about his possible upcoming trip to Zurich, he gave in to his weariness and fell asleep for the first time in days.

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><p>Owen did not have a good night's sleep – his dreams were full of Cristina. He dreamed of himself waking up with Cristina at the firehouse, at his old apartment, at the trailer, at a hotel, and some other strange places that he couldn't recognize. He was absolutely disappointed when he found himself alone in the on-call room. After he freshened up himself, he headed over to his office and continued to work on the department's budget.<p>

A light knock on the door interrupted his thought. "Come in," Owen called.

The door opened and Meredith stepped in, "There you are," She closed the door behind her and sat in the chair opposite Owen, "I hope I'm not intruding."

Raising his eyebrows, he asked, "Is there anything I can help you?"

"Yeah . . . I just wanted to check if you're ok."

Owen shook his head and chuckled, "Do you know that almost everyone in the hospital has asked me if I'm OK? It's been happening so many times in a day that I have lost count." Meredith joined him in his laughter. Owen sat back in his chair, and said sadly, "She is not dead, you know."

"Yes, I know. I'm just checking if you are ok." Meredith watched Owen's face for a reaction. Knowing that she wasn't going to get one, she continued, "So, are you ok?"

A silence fell between them.

"How's work going? Is everything alright?" Her hands fidgeted nervously on her lap, hoping that he would start talking.

Owen shook his head at her attempt to make small talks, "You know, you don't have to do this."

"I know, but she asked me to look after you and make sure that you don't get dark and twisty!" She exclaimed frustratingly, throwing her hands up. "So now, I'm asking you, are you ok?" She stared straight at him, not blinking for one moment.

Owen sighed. "You know, sometimes I wonder if people really mean it when they ask someone if they are ok, or this is simply a social convention. I mean, do they really care if I'm ok? Who cares if I'm not fine? I'm breathing. My heart is still beating. I come to work every day, I work out, and I complete all my paperwork. I'm ok."

"You need to do more than that to convince me," Meredith frowned, and paused, thinking how she should continue. "You know, it will get better. Just give it some time."

"Oh, that one!" Owen raised his eyebrows, his face twisted in mock-surprise. "Yeah, everyone says 'time heals all wounds', 'time heals almost everything', 'time will help you move on', etcetera. It's like time can do anything. But at the same time, they also say that absence makes the heart grow fonder." He leaned forward in his chair. "You see, I'm really confused here, because this," he gestured with his hand wildly, "is completely contradicting. So, the longer she's gone, the easier it is for me to move on or the more I am supposed to want her?" As he spoke, his voice trembled with rage. All his anger and frustration spilled out in his words. He took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to cool himself down.

"And I don't even know what we are now . . ." he said weakly.

Meredith looked at the miserable man sitting opposite her, who was obviously still deeply in love with her person, even though she was halfway across the globe, and sighed. As the silence between them became uncomfortable, she spoke quietly. "You should go to Zurich."

"What?" Owen frowned.

Meredith was about to explain herself when her pager beeped. She frowned as she checked her pager, and shook her head lightly.

"I've got to go." She stood up and turned to leave. "Go to Zurich. Go find her. You guys never had a proper goodbye, so go to Zurich and sort things out." She looked at Owen warmly. "I'll even buy you the flight ticket."

Owen laughed and nodded gratefully. "Thank you, but I'll pass. I can afford the flight ticket myself, ha-ha."

He mouthed a 'thank you' to her as she closed the door. Resting his head back on the chair, he closed his eyes and pondered on what she had just said. Maybe, he should really go to Zurich.

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><p>He finally dragged himself back to the trailer after spending days in the hospital. He fumbled tiredly in his bag to look for his keys, but only to be proven fruitless. He had probably left his keys in his office. <em>Great,<em> he thought, _now I have to go get the spare keys from Derek_.

Staring at the glittering back sky, he sat down outside the trailer wearily. His mind flashed back to those days back at the firehouse, when he would often find Cristina sitting at the balcony with a glass of red wine. Tiptoeing towards her, he gave her a quick peck on the lips, to let her know that he was home. With her snuggled up on his side, they would sit there together in silence, enjoying each other's company after a long day. _There's a full moon tonight_ - he wondered if she was looking at the moon, only to be let down when he remembered that Zurich was 9 hours ahead of Seattle. He sighed, _she is probably sleeping now._

He'd finally made up his mind - he decided that he'd call Dr. Gardner the next day to let him know that he would visit Zurich, because - he thought, rolling his eyes - time zones suck.

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><p><strong>NOTE: A big thank you to Eliza for being an awesome beta reader! So what do you think of this chapter? Please leave a review! I'd love to hear your opinions! ;)<strong>


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

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><p>Walking out of the hospital with a big smile on his face, Owen was satisfied that he had had a productive meeting with Dr. Gardner—it had been amazing in the OR—and he was very, very pleased with what the hospital could offer. Still thrilled after the surgery, he decided that it was time for some exploring. He strolled down the streets around the hospital and took the tram with no specific destination in mind, enjoying the excitement and high of being in a foreign country where no one knew him. (Well, there <em>was<em> one exception.)

To Owen, Zurich was great—the city was clean, calm, and chilly. It was only his second day there but he had already grown fond of it, even though he would have to brush up on his German if he eventually decided to move here. So far the people he had encountered in Zurich were friendly, warm-hearted and eager to help. Although he found Dr. Gardner, who couldn't stop discussing the possibility of taking a ski trip together in December, a bit too jolly, Owen decided that he was a nice guy, and potentially a good friend too.

He liked the university hospital—the positive work environment, the sophisticated medical equipment, the high level of performance and efficiency in the ER—he was definitely amazed. Surely, there were things that could be improved, but it was great overall. During his visit to the hospital, he had been invited to scrub in for a surgery, and he could totally see himself working there.

Heck, they'd even promised him a research lab.

On a random whim, Owen got off the tram and walked into a café just down the street. He settled down at a table overlooking the street and ordered a latte, watching the world go by as he enjoyed the rare pleasure of simply doing nothing.

And he inevitably found his thoughts drifting toward her. She crept into his mind, quietly, little by little since the moment his plane had landed at the airport, and by the time he realized what was happening, he could not keep her out anymore.

He'd lied, when he claimed that he got off the tram randomly. He knew very well that he was merely five minutes walking distance away from her, all he had to do was walk two blocks from the tram station and he would find himself in front of her hospital.

Instead, he chose to be here, in this café, staring at the clear blue sky—maybe, this was the closest he could be to her. He sighed.

Hours passed, and his grumbling stomach brought him back to the present, reminding him that it had been some time since his last meal. He nodded at the barista with a small smile on his face as he made his way out of the café, concentrating on the screen of his phone, trying to figure out what he should have for dinner.

At the same time, a petite woman with wild black curls stepped inside her favourite _konditorei_ wearily, and almost collapsed in front of the counter, for she was so exhausted after another lengthy board meeting that she had utterly no idea what was happening around her.

"Hi Dr. Yang," said the barista cheerfully, "usual?"

Cristina nodded, too tired to speak. She watched the people walking on the street as she waited for her coffee, when she caught something from the corner of her eyes.

Or, more accurately, someone.

She squinted, straining for a better line of sight, but eventually shrugged the idea off. Sleepily, she thought: there was no way he could be here.

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><p>Despite the long hours, Jules liked her part time job. It's probably because she was well paid, but also because she could spend time watching customers, creating stories for them in her head.<p>

Nonetheless, Jules always made time to read. The door creaked open, bringing her to her attention. She looked up from her book and quickly put it aside as the man walked towards the counter, ready to take his order. He was the touristy-looking man who came yesterday, Jules remembered.

"Good afternoon sir, may I take your order?" asked Jules.

"Hi. One hot latte please. And a zopf. Thank you." said the man. Jules returned him his change and watched as he brought his coffee to the same place he sat yesterday, before picking up her book again.

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><p>Owen found himself back at the same café after lunch on the next day, taking a short break—or maybe there was a part of him yearning for the comfort he found in being two blocks away from her.<p>

He sipped his hot coffee and let it warm his throat and stomach. It was three in the afternoon, a cloudless, sunny day but with a gentle breeze blowing. A sense of calm engulfed him as the sunlight poured in through the windows, and for the first time in months, he felt relaxed, his mind at peace.

Owen waited till the barista finished cleaning the table next to him, and called to her.

"Yes sir, how can I help you?" she said.

"Uhm, can you talk to me about Zurich? Like places that only the locals know?" He asked. "I believe there's more than what's mentioned on Google."

"Of course!" She laughed and nodded enthusiastically. Always excited to meet new people, Jules was keen to help, and for the next ten minutes, she filled him in on details about the city she grew up in, telling the blonde man about her favourite restaurants, the botanical garden she used to visit when she was young, and some of the best deals in town. She was cheerful, easy going and talkative, and Owen was slightly relieved that he didn't have to try hard to keep the conversations going. He nodded in agreement, interrupting her once in a while only to ask questions, making notes on some tips she shared.

"Thank you very much," he said, "you've been a great help to me! Now, one last question—" he glanced out the window and pointed at a tall building, "is that the Klausman institute?"

"You are welcome, sir. It's my pleasure." She smiled and went on, "That's right. They conduct medical researches in many fields, but mostly cardio. It is one of the best in the country, possibly even the world. Surgeons and specialists from all over the globe work there . . . I heard that they are working towards printing a fully functional heart."

He lifted an eyebrow, wondering how much she knew about Klausman. "Thank you. You seem very familiar with the hospital."

She blushed, and gave a little smile, "I did an attachment there last summer. I'm going to med school next month. UZH."

"Ah, I see. That explains why you are reading _Gray's Anatomy_." he chuckled and said, "Welcome to the club. I'm a surgeon. Trauma."

She excitedly reached out to shake his hand and said, "Trauma! It must be very exciting in the ER. Can you tell me about it?" she motioned to the empty seat, "May I sit down? I'm Jules by the way."

"Dr. Owen Hunt. Sure, but are you sure your boss will be ok with it?"

"I'll just tell her that I'm showing you places in Zurich." They shared a laughter, and were quiet for a moment, as Owen deliberated over cases he worked on.

"Every day in the ER we have patients coming in in many different states. Like DOA, unconscious, or perfectly fine on the outside with really bad internal injury . . ." Owen said. "There was once in my hospital that a patient came in, and we couldn't locate his heartbeat—which is actually not something unusual—but he was not in coma or unconscious. He was still breathing, and I'm pretty sure that our devices were not malfunctioning. And so our doctors kind of freaked out." He laughed a little, and continued, "It turned out that his heart was on the other side. Ever read about situs inversus?"

Jules nodded excitingly, "I thought cases like this only exist on text books. How rare!"

"I know, right? And the surgery was challenging. Very different from how we usually work, because everything had to be done on the other side–" He said, and sighed a little when he remembered his co-surgeon. "I must admit that it was tricky, but everything went well. It was a breeze for my co-surgeon though. You know, some people are born to cut."

Jules agreed, and asked, "Do you mind if I ask which hospital you are working at? It seemed that you guys always get all the exciting and 'fun' cases. Ha-ha."

"Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital, in Seattle. I'm from the United States."

"Oh my God!" Jules' eyes widened, and her hand flew to her mouth in shock. "Grey Sloan Memorial? Really? Do you know Dr. Cristina Yang? If I'm not mistaken, she used to work there right?"

Owen gave a sad smile. "Yes she did. We used to work together." _And she used to be my wife._

"That must be awesome! I mean, she is one of the greatest young surgeons of this era, so it must be really wonderful to be able to witness her magic in the OR . . . How I wish I can work with her one day! To be honest, I'm a bit disappointed that she only came to Klausman after I finished my attachment." She gave a little sigh, and continued, "Anyway, she comes here almost every day. Maybe you two can meet and catch up with each other later."

Owen gasped. "Are you sure? _The_ Dr. Yang?"

Before Jules could answer, a young man's voice called to her from the coffee bar. "Be right there!" Jules said and then lowered her voice, "yes, positive. She usually comes around 5. Do you want to wait for her? Or I can leave her a message on your behalf?"

Owen shook his head, and said, "No, thank you." Jules nodded, and swiftly got back to work, leaving a pondering Owen who stared out the window at the skyline of Zurich. The sense of calm he felt earlier had suddenly dissipated, and his mind raced wildly, imagining thousands of different scenarios. His heart pounded at the possibility of running into her, as a mixture of joy and sorrow hit him–the exact same way he felt when she called from Minnesota, when she asked if they could try again, when she agreed to not leave him until she left–he gulped down the last of his coffee, an attempt to drown all his feelings, and ordered another one.

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><p>Cristina muttered a 'thank you' as the barista passed her the coffee. She sipped her coffee while she slowly made her way out of the <em>konditorei<em>, enjoying the aroma of roasted coffee bean and baked goods.

She nearly choked herself when she saw what was written on the paper cup: _Take care now._

She blinked in surprise and stood there motionless, her hand clutching the paper cup like a lifebuoy. Her heart sped up; various questions swirled in her head: _Take care now? What? What in the world is happening? No one knows about this except me and Owen. Is Owen here?_ Cristina turned round in a flash and looked around the café frantically, demanding answers for her confusions.

And there he was, sitting with his back towards her, in her favourite _konditorei_, in Zurich. She couldn't see his face, but from his leather jacket and the way he sat, she was certain.

She froze. A decision to be made – fight or flight?

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><p><strong>NOTE: A big thank you to Eliza for beta reading this chapter. Happy Valentine's day my dearest crowen fangirls! Anyway, a little announcement here: I'll try to update the story every two weeks unless there's something unexpected, like when I have to rewrite a chapter. (Like this one, this is not my first draft haha) Also, I'm very determined to finish the story and I'll try my best not to abandon it. :D What do you think about this chapter? Please leave a review and let me know your opinion! I hope you like the CO reunion! Thanks for reading. :)<strong>


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

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><p>Usually, in a fight-or-flight situation, Cristina would choose the latter. But this time, she stayed. He couldn't just show up out of the blue then walk away. She wouldn't let that happen. She had to act now.<p>

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, gathering all the courage she needed. Staring straight ahead, she walked towards him, the clicking sound of her high heels echoed in the room.

"Owen?"

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><p>It was impossible for Owen to not notice that there was someone heading in his direction.<p>

The whole café seemed to have been tuned out, only a steady clicking sound remained—from a pair of high heels, he supposed. He heard the footsteps approaching him, and seconds later, a shadow fell over him. He did not look up from his coffee, at least not right away, until a woman's voice said his name.

It's the voice which he often woke up to.

The voice in his broken down déjà vu.

The voice in his dreams.

He had spent the last few hours preparing himself, imagining thousands possible scenarios. Nevertheless, he was astounded. He looked up, and found her standing in front of him.

It had been a while.

"Cristina." He acknowledged her presence with a nod. Everything around them seemed to have frozen in time, leaving only the two of them staring at each other.

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><p>Cristina asked if the seat opposite him was empty. Without waiting for an answer, she sat down, crossing her legs under the table, shifting in her seat until she got comfortable. Owen watched her until he felt tears well up in his eyes, forcing him to look away. He stared out the window, avoiding any kind of eye contact with his . . . actually, he had no idea what they were at that moment.<p>

As she placed her purse and her coffee on the wooden table, she slowly let out a long breath which she hadn't been aware that she was holding. She took a good look at him, and immediately noticed that he seemed to have lost some weight since their last encounter—his face a little paler, his eyes circled with purplish half-moons; obviously due to lack of sleep, she guessed. She felt a pang in her heart, but tried to ignore it. A million questions ran in her head: _What is he doing here? How long has he been in Zurich? What happened after I left, and what's happening now?_ She might seem calm and indifferent, but inside, she was nervous and shocked at the same time, replaying all the events of the day in her head: rounds, two surgeries, reviewed some reports, mandatory coffee break, saw the words, turn around, and then. . . now.

_What a day_, she thought.

For a long moment, they left each other alone with their own thoughts, until Cristina broke the silence. "Owen," she said, trying to keep her tone steady, "what are you doing here?"

He turned halfway around to face her. "Nothing much, just taking a short trip. I'm visiting a hospital." He said, adding nothing more before staring out the window again. No comments on the hospital he was visiting, no questions about her hospital, or her life in Zurich. Absolutely nothing.

She waited, but nothing happened. So she just let her words slip away and sipped her coffee, not really sure where she should look at.

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><p>The sun was setting, and the sky faded from pale blue to indigo. Looking at the sky, Owen's heartbeat finally slowed down after all the excitement and surprise of meeting her, his racing mind tamed. He watched people bustling on the street, crushing each other as they rushed home for dinner.<p>

_Home. _He sighed.

He did not even know if he had a place like that. After all, he only had Derek's trailer.

His mind flashed back to those days when he would wait for Cristina at the hospital lobby after his shift was over, and they would walk back to her apartment—a place which he could call it home—together afterwards, with his arm hanging loosely around her shoulder. She would tell him about her day: her patients, her 'hopeless' interns, how she rocked the OR, and also all the gossips in the hospital. He remembered the gleam in her face as she talked, and he had always loved watching her.

Owen couldn't suppress the tiniest of smiles as he replayed their good old days together. His thought flew back to Seattle, to the question he had started asking himself since the arrival of his job offer. What did he still have there? He wondered. There's his mother, his sisters, some friends, his job—and then what else?

No, she wasn't there. But she was here, right in front of him.

He sighed, again. He glanced quickly across the table at her. She was actually sitting opposite him, in person.

He had thought about this for some many times. But right now, as it happened, he felt . . . confused. Puzzled. He had no idea how he should talk to her—'Hey, it's great running into you here! How are you?' sounded really awkward—or what he should do. And so, he opted to avoid it.

He chose to hold off making decisions on Zurich. It was too soon to decide on anything.

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><p>With one hand propping her chin, Cristina looked at Owen and wondered what he was thinking. A small smile crept onto his face as he watched the street, as if there was something amusing. She gently called out to him, "Owen?"<p>

"Yes?" He turned around and faced her.

"How are you doing?" She asked.

"Fine. Thank you." He replied, keeping his answer short.

"Which hospital are you visiting?"

"USZ."

"I see. Is everything alright in Seattle?"'

"Yes."

"How long have you been here?"

"3 days."

"How long are you going to stay here?"

"A week."

"Oh. Ok."

Again, the conversation died away, leaving only the sounds of coffee machines and the chatter of other customers in the background. She had the feeling that he was reluctant to talk. She sighed weakly and decided to fix her focus on something else.

An uncomfortable silence fell between them. She tried to ease the atmosphere but obviously, her effort was in vain. _Is he trying to shut her out? Is he angry at her?_ She wondered. Maybe she's too sensitive . . . or maybe not.

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><p>The almost formal distance between them was getting unbearable. She had already finished her coffee, which meant no more pretending to sip her coffee and sneaking stolen glances at him. She sighed, and looked at him as he continued to stare out the window.<p>

"You like . . . the street? I mean, you like watching the people? Or the scenery?"

He was surprised by her rather abrupt questions. After taking a brief moment to think about it, he answered, "Yeah . . . both, I think. This café is a nice people watching spot."

She laughed a little. "Yes, I agree. Have you been here before? Were you here yesterday?" Owen nodded without saying anything, and Cristina went on, "I see. So I wasn't hallucinating." She waited for a response, hoping that he would eventually start talking, only to grow more discouraged with every passing second.

A peek over her watch revealed that she had been out for half an hour. Cristina gathered her purse and rose from her seat. "I have to go back to my hospital now. Do you want to come?" She offered.

She watched his face for a reaction, and deep down, she prayed that he would say yes. But Owen just looked up at her and shook his head. Cristina quickly masked her disappointment with a small smile, and leaned over to give him a quick perk on the cheek as she whispered in his ear, "Ok then . . . enjoy your stay in Zurich. Take care now." She then made her way out of the café swiftly, ignoring the tears that were welling up rapidly in her eyes. Willing herself not to cry on the street, she walked as fast as she could. There were a lot of noises and footsteps behind her, but she was not intrigued to find out what's happening, and so she quickened her pace, hoping to reach her office as soon as possible.

A light tap on her shoulder made Cristina turn around, and she saw Owen panting heavily in front of her, obviously out of breath after a run.

"I'm sorry," he paused to catch his breath. "I changed my mind. Can I visit your hospital? And do you always walk this fast?"

"Sure." Cristina blinked back the tears pooling in her eyes and laughed. "And yeah, I think so."

With their hands in their pockets, they set off side by side, heading towards Cristina's hospital. His arm brushed hers lightly, giving her a little tingling feeling. As they walked, Cristina couldn't stop looking at him from the corner of her eyes. She felt an overwhelming desire to grip his hand, or entwine her arm around his, but she tried to ignore it.

They stopped right across the hospital, waiting for the green light to cross the road. Being caught off guard, she gasped in shock when he reached for her hand, and he smirked a little at her expression.

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><p>Reluctantly, he let go of her hand in front of the hospital. He caught a flicker of disappointment in her expression before she put on a smile. Not an excited grin, but more of a small smile with a sense of pride that couldn't go unnoticed.<p>

"So . . . this is my hospital." She waved her hand, motioning to the hospital.

He nodded and slid his hand into his pocket. Together, they stepped inside the quiet hospital. People walked past them hastily, nodding and giving a small smile before continuing what they were doing. Owen was greeted by a familiar yet strange smell of disinfectant—largely similar to what they used in GSMH, but also different at the same time. Cristina tugged at his sleeve, motioning him to come with her. She walked in front of him, pointing out something in the hospital to him now and then, her long black curls brushing her shoulders. Though he had the urge to move her hair aside so that he could see that back of his neck, he resisted it.

"And here are all the printers—" she pointed them out to Owen as they strode past the busy area, where doctors and engineers focused intensely on the printers, anticipating their products, "we have 50 of them." She led him across the hallway, and he watched as she fumbled in her pocket for her keys before opening a door down the corner, "And here is the 51st printer, and also my research lab."

She followed after him as they made their ways into her lab, and then locked the door behind her. Baffled, he turned around, his eyebrow raised at her.

"We need to talk." She met his eyes, daring him to look away. "Don't we?"

He frowned with a tiny nod, "Yes. We do."

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><p>If you had met Owen a month ago, he would have laughed if you told him that he would take a trip to Zurich the next month and then run into Cristina at a café. He would have asked you to stop joking.<p>

He was standing in front of her now, and it was not a dream.

He had dreamed of this so many times, but when it finally did happen, he had no idea what he should do. So he looked into her brown eyes, feeling a mixture of sorrow and fury rising up inside him like acid indigestion.

He was angry, upset, hurt and confused at the same time.

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><p><strong>NOTE: This chapter is beta-ed by Eliza. And I miss crowen so much. Should we start a fundraiser so that we can get a flight ticket for Owen? : **  
><strong> Please let me know what you think about this chapter! Thank you!<strong>


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